


Together

by WillowBlackthorn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: I am weak., M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This literally wasn't suppose to have porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowBlackthorn/pseuds/WillowBlackthorn
Summary: He’s had enough of this place. Enough of the cold stone and the demons it drags back. He just want's to go home.





	

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

The first thing Junkrat becomes aware of is the pain throughout his body and the ringing in his ears. While neither of them are new to Junkrat, what is slightly off putting is the fact he can’t remember how those aches came to be.

He remembers a battle though. They were moving the payload weren’t they? Or well, Junkrat guesses the real payload was the mission objective. They were suppose to be collecting the remains of some General. Some Balderich von Adler. Not the worst mission he’s ever been on. Pretty morbid though.

The Junker remembers the Crusader, Reinhardt, tell countless stories, one after another. His loud voice made impossibly louder, as it bounces off the walls of the carrier. The other agents seem to eat up the words. Both Junkers want no part in reminiscing. Junkrat can still hear that boisterous voice though. Just beyond the slowly dying ringing in his ears.

Junkrat blinks slowly, sluggishly at the half collapsed ceiling above him and the bright blue sky beyond that. Despite the ringing, he could hear some birds chirping away in the distance. The junker lay there for what felt like hours, even though it was likely only half that time. The birds continued to chirp away as if nothing was wrong.

Bloody birds.

With a groan, the Junker tries to roll onto his knees, pushing himself up on his hands. Pain blossoms in his shoulder, and his side throbs in pain. He can ignore them, he’s felt worse. His own image is a testimony to that. Junkrat can handle worse. 

It’s the sound of metallic parts dragging and clatter against the ground that attracts his attention and holds it like a vice. His leg, his bad leg, is shattered. The ‘kneecap’ is gone entirely, and Junkrat is honestly not sure how the peg leg platform is still attached, with the way the rest of it has splintered apart. He knows there’s know way he can walk on it.

He chokes back a noise, grasping at his side. “R-roadhog?” Junkrat manages to get out. But even that is twisted and mangled. The blond sucks in a breath and tries again. “Roadie??” Nothing. “Crickey, this ain't funny mate.” No response. No lumbering Junker hobbling his way over to pick him up. No… anything. There were no sounds of battle. No sounds of a search. Hell those stupid birds were still chirping awa- oh.

Oh.

It was then Junkrat realized just how alone he actually was.

There were no signs, because no one was there. His hand flies to his ear, but it’s with a heavy feeling that he realizes he no longer has his com. The device was likely lost in the process of battle. He has essentially been left behind. There was no way for to reach them, and there was no way they could reach him. The Junker’s breathe caught in his throat. He hadn’t been alone in years… The last time Junkrat had been alone was when… No. Junkrat wheezed as he tried to push the thought from his mind. He groans as he tries to push the looming panic out of his mind.

Ultimately, he fails.

Junkrat curls up in a ball, right where he woke up. Eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clamped over his ears in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the daunting silence that looks all around him. He talks to himself, holds conversations with himself. All to keep the quiet away. He’s so busy trying to shut everything around him out, he doesn’t hear the sound of wheels clacking against Eichenwalde stone. He drowns out the curious voice calling his name cautiously. He does feel the tentative brush of fingers against his arm, and it sends him farther into his panic.

The Junker flails, flings his metal arm up in an attempt to push away whatever has touched him. He moves with enough force that he ends up toppling backwards onto his back once more, leaving him staring right back up at that same ceiling and the all too familiar sky. That is, until someone is leaning over him. 

Two long, dark arms are stretched out above him, tethered to the ground on either side of his head. Dark brown hair, that fades to a pale blonde falls like a curtain from the ponytail that they’re pulled into, running off the man’s shoulder. Eyes stare back at his. They’re curious, confused, worried. It talks Junkrat a long moment to realize it’s Lúcio. It takes him an even longer moment to realize the medic is talking to him.

“Hey, Junkrat. You with me??” Lucio calls to him. “Come on man, say something.” Junkrat simply closes his eyes and sighs. Lúcio doesn’t seem to like the answer, because the next thing Junkrat knows, Lúcio is saying something about touching him before there’s a gentle brush of a hand against his cheek, a thumb reaching out and stroking just under his eye. “Jamie.” Lúcio breathes. It’s his name. His actual name. Lúcio uses it whenever he gets the chance. Very rarely does he use the Junkers alias. It only happens on certain occasions. Junkrat sobs. 

“My leg’s busted.” The Junker chokes out, throwing an arm over his eyes to further block the world out. There’s a gentle noise from Lúcio somewhere above him, the thumb on his face never stops moving, though this time there’s a hand on his hip. A silent question. “The prosthetic. I can’t move.” He finishes. Junkrat didn’t know how it happened. Maybe it was the result of whatever had landed him in this half crumbled building. Maybe it happened when he connected with the floor. He just didn’t know.

Junkrat listens as Lúcio’s own tech scrapes against the stone floor, before there’s a light pressure against his right temple. The medic is kissing him, he realizes.

“...Can I take a look?” comes the soft question, spoken against his skin. Lúcio hasn’t moved away just yet. Junkrat nods, hesitantly, but still doesn’t say anything. The hand on his cheek disappears, replaced with another kiss before that too is gone. He feels two hands on his thigh, the edges of his shorts pushed aside. If this were any other time, any other place, Junkrat would be eating this up. But it’s not, and he isn’t. One hand dips under his thigh, trying to bend it at the joint, to get a better look. The blonde picks his arm up just enough to look down at Lúcio, and regrets it almost instantly when fingers trail over skin that meets metal.

He hisses painfully, arching his back off the ground. It’s not that the touch hurt. No. Lúcio is always gentle with him. Far gentler than anyone has ever been with him. It’s the memory that leaves him writhing in a phantom pain. There’s a hand on his cheek again, another is carded through his hair, and Lúcio’s calling his name again. 

“Jamie.” Lúcio calls out, voice soothing and soft. He repeats the Junker’s name over and over again like a mantra. “Jamie.” He repeats, those same hands moving from his face and his hair to coil around his torso and pull him into a sitting position, to pull Junkrat against him. The angle is a bit awkward. Lúcio is so much smaller than him, but neither seem to mind. The audio medic just holds him close, repeating his name and murmuring soft nothings to him as the memory creeps back into the recesses of his mind.

“I’ll fix it.” Lúcio promises, nuzzling against Junkrat’s throat. “Once we get back to the carrier alright?” The medic can only do so much without tools. As it is, he’s somehow lost his Sonic Amplifier. He’s also missing his trademark headphone and visor. Junkrat is only so curious as to how he lost them, but he doesn’t ask. It doesn’t matter anyway.

Tension bleeds out of Junkrat’s back, slowly relaxing under Lúcio’s touch. A hand is settled on his lower back, as the other hand glides up and down against the ridge of his spine. Junkrat sighs, tangling his fingers into Lúcio’s green tank. He feels the tell tale press of lips against his collar and closes his eyes.

“We’ve got to move Jamie…” Lúcio says. “We can’t stay here.” Junkrat knows this. The team won’t find them where they are now. They’ve got to move closer back to the drop off point. He doesn’t want to though. Moving, means that Junkrat has to face an issue he doesn’t want to address at the moment. Let alone remember it exists. “It’s now or never Jamie.” The urge to huff is strong, and Junkrat almost loses that battle but he keeps the noise squashed down.

Lúcio’s hand trail up his back, over his arms as he pulls away and Junkrat’s expression sours. “How do you want to do this??” Lúcio asks, holding his hands, both metal and flesh, tight, the fingers of both hands are laced.. He doesn’t want to do this, but he’s got no choice. Lúcio squeezes his hands, drawing the blonde’s attention. “Hey.” He coaxes. “You’re gonna do just fine.” This cause Junkrat to snort quietly, before he pitches forward, resting his head against Lúcio’s stomach.

He feels Lú tense against him. Curious, cautious, questioning. One of the medic’s hand releases his own, only to resume its earlier position, tangled in his hair. “...Jamie?” Junkrat lets out tired sigh before sitting back and scrubbing at his face with his free hand. “Jamie… Talk to me man.”

Junkrat looks up, meeting Lúcio’s worried gaze. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come. His mouth closes in a scowl. The medic is patient with him. He says nothing as he continues to card his fingers through blonde hair. He tries again, but the words still don’t come. Junkrat feels more like a fish, with the way his mouth opens and closes repeatedly, until finally he manages something. “It’s… hard.” He chokes out.

“I can’t move it.” He’s told Lúcio that already. “No way I can walk on it.” He mumbles. “The last time this happened was when I…” Junkrat sighs as he hears Lúcio suck in a breath, coming to his own realization. “It was different… with Roadhog… with Mako around.” He corrects. “If it happened…” Junkrat waved a hand. “He was there to fix me up.” Now? Now he was alone. No way to get himself back in action. “I’m back to square one.” He points out, almost bitterly.

Lúcio kneels suddenly, surprising the young man. “Listen to me.” The medic says, his hand carding through blond hair one more time before it travels down to cup his cheek once more. “Mako might not be here, but you aren’t alone.” The Brazilian leans forward, kisses him. Not on the temple, not on the cheek. Lúcio actually kisses him, and Junkrat takes it greedily. So when the shorter man pulls away, Junkrat makes a pained noise. “Babe…” A pet name, usually reserved for when they were home, secluded from the others. The name makes Junkrat feel fuzzy and tingly. The Junkrat hates it. But he loves just as much and then some. “Babe. I’m here with you. We’re together.” The Brazilian may not have had the tech to fix the Junkers leg, but he was not about to leave the Australian to face this alone. 

“Meu amor.” Lúcio sighs, pressing another kiss against Junkrat’s lips. “Let me help you.” Junkrat’s breathe catches in his throat. “Please Babe.” Junkrat doesn’t make him ask twice. With a tentative nod, Lúcio’s twisting his stance. The Brazilian bares his back to Junkrat. With a gentle pull, Lúcio brings the Junker’s back flush against him. Junkrat’s pale arms twist around Lúcio’s neck, as the Medic’s gloved hands wrap around camo clad legs. Junkrat tenses, but Lúcio is quick to relax him. “Easy…”

Junkrat sighs against his arms, but nod. “ ‘M alright mate.” He doesn’t say that he’s nervous. They both knew he was. None of this was easy for Junkrat to admit. But Lúcio knows that. Lúcio understands that. He’s patient with Junkrat, just like he’s always been.

Lúcio squeezes gently before he is picking the Junker. Junkrat is quick to try and ignore the way the twisted metal of his leg swings. He’s ready to flinch at the loud clunk that will accompany the metal piece falling off and hitting stone. But it never comes. His fingers once again tangle in the fabric of Lúcio’s shirt, as the shorter man gains his balance. The angle is awkward once more, but Lúcio’s tech is more than capable of handling it, and the Brazilian is quick to right himself. Junkrat doesn’t look to see how Lúcio manages his busted leg. He doesn’t want to.

Lúcio pushes off, and despite the constantly shifting scenery around them, he keeps their progress and movements slow and cautious. He doesn’t want to jar Junkrat’s leg. “We’re gonna head back to drop off.” The Brazilian announces. Junkrat can only nod as he closes his eyes, trying to hide himself as best he can, once again set to ignore the word around him. The Australian tries to focus on the sound of Lúcio’s skates against stone, tries to focus on the sound of his breathing. The subtle hum filling his ears.

\---

A warm presence at his back causes him to jolt. He blinks blearily, rubbing at his eyes. There are hands on his chest, fingers tracing over muscles. They pull gently, guiding him back against the warmth. “You fell asleep.” A voice says, drifting forth from somewhere behind him. Junkrat sucks in a breath, willing himself to relax. 

“Sorry.” Lúcio replies, pressing his lips to the Junker’s throat when the blonde settles back against him. “You looked like you could use the nap. I didn’t mean to spook you.” Junkrat snorts softly, before he lets out a sigh and rubs at his shoulder. “Jamie?? Are you alright?”

Junkrat blinks slowly, turning his gaze towards the Latino momentarily before looking away again. “Nah… Just some shoulder pains. I’ll be fine.” He says slowly, putting on a soft, lopsided smile. He doesn’t mention that his side hurts on occasion. He knows that by now, Lúcio’s probably noticed the large patch of discolored skin adorning his side. Junkrat hopes it will be enough to deter Lúcio, but when fingers brush against his against his shoulder, he can’t quite stop the quiet chuckle that climbs out of his throat.

He should have known better. He really should have.

He let’s Lúcio massage at his shoulder. Without his amp, and his gear on the fritz, it’s the best the medic can offer, and Junkrat will gladly take it. Junkrat quiets under the ministrations, relaxing against Lúcio’s touch. His hands drop, falling more so onto Lúcio’s legs that are stretched out on either side of him. The medic took off his gear, Junkrat realizes, when his own fingers glide over skin and fabric, not metal. From somewhere behind him, Junkrat listens as Lúcio sighs contently. “Mako will be here soon enough, Amor. He’ll get you fixed up in no ti-”

“I love ya.” Junkrat cuts in suddenly, leaving Lúcio the one who is blinking. “I uh… I love ya.” He repeats. “I love ya both. Mako and yerself. More than anything in the world. Ya know that right?” He mumbles. “I know I don’t say it often but, I just thought ya should know that.” The fingers on his shoulder stop moving, and Junkrat want’s nothing more than to curl up in the smallest ball he can manage and disappear. But he can’t. So he settles for pulling his good knee up to his chest and hiding his face in it, his arms wrapping around his head.

When those same fingers pull away, when he feels Lúcio’s legs shift and pull away, Junkrat flinches. He hates himself for it. He hates that he gets nervous like this. He hates that he gets nervous about Lúcio. He hates how quiet it is. How cold he feels now.

“Jamie.”

His name is spoken so softly, he doesn’t know what to do. “Jamie.” Lúcio calls him again. The word tumbles out of the Brazilian’s mouth in a way the Junker never thought possible. The sound radiates warmth and love, and each time it leaves Junkrat speechless. Breathless, even.

“Babe…” Lúcio murmurs as darkened fingers curl around his wrists, untangling his arms from his face before moving to cup his cheeks. “Meu amor.” He repeats as he tilts Junkrat’s head back just a bit, drawing his gaze. Lúcio shifts in front of him, moving from his position on his knees to wrapping his legs around Junkrat’s waist. “My Junkrat.” Lúcio breathes against his lips before kissing him.

The kiss, like all ones that came before it, is soft. It’s caring. It’s Lúcio, and Junkrat finds himself chasing after those lips as they pull away a few moments later.

“Of course I know that.” Lúcio says softly. “There has never, ever, been a doubt in my mind that you do.” The medic places a kiss on Junkrat’s cheek. “I know you love me. I know you love Mako. Believe me Sweetheart, we know. Mako and I both know you love us.” Those thumbs are brushing under his eyes again, as if wiping away invisible tears. “We love you too Jamie.”

We love you too Jamie.

If Junkrat were honest with himself, he would admit that he doesn’t understand why they love him. Doesn’t understand why Roadhogs put up with his antics for so long. It had been so long since that first day, when Junkrat hired the taller man as a bodyguard. He doesn’t understand why Lúcio bothered to get to know them. Why he even attempted to learn about them, their triumphs, and their struggles. But he did, and he stayed. They both stayed.

For that, he is grateful. More than anything, he is grateful.

The blonde sighs as Lúcio presses close. Dark hands drop from his face slowly running over his skin. They travel down his neck and collar bones. Junkrat has to suck in a breathe when Lúcio kisses his throat. The hands move over his shoulders, dip down his arms where they gently close around Junkrat’s own wrists. Lúcio’s hand guide his own up and around the medic’s own shoulders before they sweep back the way they came. Back at Junkrat’s shoulders, they suddenly dive, and Lúcio pitches forward to reach down the chasm of Junkrat’s back.

It’s there Junkrat takes an opportunity. He presses his face against Lúcio’s neck, nuzzling close. The action is gentle at first, before he’s pressing just a little bit harder. Lúcio responds in kind, placing a kiss on his shoulder and whispering a soft hush.The Junker inhales deeply, drinking in Lúcio’s scent as he lets his eyes drift close once more. It’s there. Buried under the gritty dirt, and salty tang of sweat, he gets just a hint of it’s warming presence. Cinnamon.

But soon enough, it is gone once again as Lúcio sits back, gently pushing the Junker back as his hand crest back over his shoulders before making the descent over his chest. Fingers then spread out, tracing over muscle and old scars.

“We love you so much Jamie.” Lúcio says suddenly, softly. Fingers trail further down, moving from his chest to his abs. “I love you.” The medic replies, leaving Junkrat groaning and sucking in hair. “More than anything in the world Jamie.” The Junker is panting softly, and he shoots a weak glare at the man before him. Lúcio has the audacity to look like he isn’t turned on by this. Junkrat’s gaze narrows, but there is no venom behind it. The Brazilian responds by ghosting his fingers over Junkrat’s hips, traveling along the hem of his shorts. He can’t stop himself from rocking into it. “Yer doing this on purpose, ain’t’cha??”

Lúcio hums, his fingers crossing the threshold and running over fabric. “Maybe~” He sing songs, gripping Junkrat half hard cock through his shorts. Lúcio is rewarded for his efforts with a ragged breath from Junkrat, the blonde rocking into his hands. “Mm… Alright. Yeah.” Lúcio states, palming at the blonde, grip occasionally tightening around the shaft. “Thought you could use a distraction.” Lúcio’s fingers pull away from the Junker’s clothed erection, causing him to whine. The medic’s lips twitch upwards. “...Is it working?” He asks, pulling at the belts around Junkrat’s waist. The belts clatter, and soon enough buttons and a zipper are undone before Lúcio’s sliding his hand under the fabric and against skin. By now, the Medic isn’t surprised at all to find that the Australian is currently commando. Junkrat sighs, rocking into the grip. “Jamie?” Lúcio’s smile turns into a full on grin when Junkrat tossed him a humorous answer of ‘Pleasantly.’

Lúcio pulls the Junker’s aching erection free, and for that, Junkrat is glad, even if the cool air against his heated skin makes him hiss. He watches as darkened fingers curl around him and move. Up and down. Slowly, the pace relaxed, before Lúcio shifts his grip. His fingers stay wrapped, but the medic’s thumb bow trails along the underside. Up and down. Junkrat jolts, sucking in a breathe when that same thumb presses against the metal embedded in his skin, and then moves over the slit and head of his cock. Lúcio lovingly toys with the piercing, a Prince Albert, and it leaves Junkrat brainless.

The blonde leans back on his hands, head tipping backwards with a groaning curse as he rolls his hips into that hand. Lúcio’s legs around him tighten as he scoots that much closer.

“Jamie~” He sing songs again, drawing out the A in his name. Junkrat picks his head up just enough to look at him under hooded eyes, his brow raising curiously. “Wanna help me out here?” Lúcio says, this time his breath hitches as he rolls his hips to meet Junkrat’s, driving the point home. The medic can’t suppress loving laugh at bubbles out of his throat at how fast Junkrat’s hands are on him. “Atta boy…” Lúcio sighs out, as Junkrat gets his pants undone. The choked noise of surprise het gets when Junkrat finds out he is not the only one going commando goes straight to the Brazilian groin. 

“Hooley dooley…” Junkrat says breathlessly, pleasantly surprised. Lúcio laughs at the phrase, light and bubbly, and honestly? Junkrat loves the sound of it. The laugh turns into a pleased groan as Junkrat’s fingers curl brushing over skin and metal alike. Three curved barbels adorn Lúcio’s dark skin. A Frenum Ladder. Junkrat had been surprised, when he had first learned about it.

“Felt like surprising you…” Lúcio murmurs, rolling into Junkrat’s hand before bringing them together. They both hiss at the contact. “Though this isn’t exactly how I planned on doing it. Damn…” The medic sighs happily, bucking into hands, against Junkrat.

“Y-yeah?” 

Lúcio’s lips twitch as Junkrat’s voice hitches, catches in his throat. “Mmhmm..” Though the response sounds more like a hum than anything, but neither care. “Was gonna drag you off after we got back. Was gonna have my way with you.” A pause, the smile grows coy. “Or, ya know… Let you have your way with me.” The Australian curses as his rhythm falters.

He’s not done with Junkrat just yet.

“Maybe I was planning on having Mako find us.” Junkrat groans, leaning forward, and Lúcio runs his free hand up and down Junkrat’s back soothingly. “Mmm Maybe I was thinking you both could have your way with me… Together.” Junkrat cries out, chokes on a breathe again. It’s all the indication Lúcio needs. The Medic pushes back at the blonde gently, guiding him onto his back with gentle murmurs and soft kisses, all while keeping pace with his hand. 

Once Junkrat is down, the hand moves away, and the Junker is about to cry in protest when Lúcio’s hips grind down on his. He could swear he see’s stars. He cants his hips upwards, eager to meet the medics, but he’s getting pushed down softly. Lúcio says something about not wanting to hurt his leg, but Junkrat’s too far gone to hear it, or care. Their pace has quickened, the the movements are erratic. They’re chasing after something that’s not quite there. Not yet anyway.

Junkrat breathes heavily under him and Lúcio repays the man with more kisses than he’d care to count. On his throat, collar, down his chest, his stomach and further down. That same hand that was just on his back, guiding him back is how sliding over his skin once more. It finds its way to Junkrat’s hand, were it squeezes for a moment, before guiding it back to Lúcio’s head. Junkrat’s pale fingers curled into the Medic’s hair, despite both the ponytail and the dreads.

The Junker whines, high and needy, and Lúcio presses a kiss on the man’s hip before nuzzling the skin there. “I’ve got you Baby… I’ve got you.” Junkrat knows this to be true. It’s like he’s stepped in his own steel trap. Lúcio’s grip on him and in his life is a tight, constant presence. Much like it is with Roadhog. 

Junkrat doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

When Lúcio takes him into his mouth, Junkrat’s back arches. The hand in the brunette’s hair tightens. The medic hasta fight the urge to laugh, managing instead to hum around him. Lúcio’s tongue presses flat against the underside of Junkrat’s cock and he groans. The Brazilian is putting that blasted barbel in his tongue to good use. His hips buck, but Lúcio is still keeping him pinned at the hip.

He whines again, and Lúcio indulges him, bobbing up and down slowly as he drags his tongue along the length. Then he goes down, burying his nose in the nest of blonde hair there. He nuzzles the skin there with his nose before he sucks. It doesn’t take Junkrat long after that.

Junkrat’s tips, spilling into Lúcio’s mouth, the medic’s name spilling from his. Lúcio swallows it all as best he can, before he’s pulling off with one last swipe of his tongue.

Junkrat is boneless beneath him, blinking at the medic with tired eyes as Lúcio tucks them both away. He’s only vaguely aware that Lúcio didn’t get release, but before he can protest, there is a hand in his hair. “Later Amor…” He says as he presses close, gathering the Australian closer. “Later… When we get outta here.” Junkrat doesn’t protest, instead he simply closes his eyes and wraps his mechanical arm around Lúcio’s waist, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric. A light hum reaches his ears, and Junkrat makes a small noise. “Maybe we can tease Mako.” Junkrat snorts quietly. “What do you think?” He cracks an eye open to find that same sly grin is back on Lúcio’s face. Junkrat feels the corners of his own lips twitch upward. It’s infectious. “We can take him back to the room and show him what we did yeah?? Together.” 

Lúcio is rewarded with a tired smile as Junkrat shifts closer, nuzzling against dark skin.

\---

Once more a warm presence startles him. However this time, the warmth is more enveloping and it’s accompanied by an ecstatic laugh. He blinks his eyes open to find he is tucked securely against Roadhog, cradled in one of his arms. The other is being used to support the young medic who has thrown his arms Mako’s neck. The Brazilian is somewhere between leaning against Roadhog’s shoulder, and and sitting in the bend of the man’s arm. Lúcio then turns to kiss the tank, and Junkrat is surprised to find that Roadhog is maskless.

They can both feel as Roadhog tenses for a moment before relaxing. Roadhog huffs, but accepts the kiss, his grip on both of them tightening protectively. “You alright?” He drawls, voice thick and rougher than usual. Junkrat wonders what happened to it. If his partner had been hurt somehow. Again though, he doesn’t ask.

“We’re alright.” Lúcio confirms with a nod and a bright smile. “I lost some of my gear and Jamie’s leg is busted, but I can fix that on the plane.” Junkrat blinks as Roadhog turns his gaze on him, silently questioning.

Junkrat’s own gaze flickers between the two of them. “Yeah, ‘m alright Mate.” When Roadhog huffed and raised a brow, Junkrat shifted as best he could. “I wasn’t alone.” He murmurs, leaning into Roadhog’s warmth. No… He would never be alone. Not with the two of them. “Lúcio made sure of that.” Junkrat didn’t miss how the bright smile on Lúcio’s face grew.

It’s that same smile that causes him to pause, blinking at the pair before he’s suddenly moving. Junkrat ignores Lúcio’s concern, as he slides his arms around Roadhog’s neck. The medic’s protests die down instantly as Junkrat nuzzles the other man in a rare show of affection. What’s even rarer is when Roadhog returns the gesture, both to Junkrat and Lúcio. It successfully leaves the pair of them with a brilliant blush. A grunt, and and a slightly upward twitch of lips announces that Roadhog is pleased with his work.

Lúcio’s grin turns lopsided and dopey, and Junkrat coughs awkwardly to try and cover up his own blush. He falls miserably. “Wanna go home though.” He comments, lightly. Quietly. He’s had enough of this place. Enough of the cold stone and the demons it drags back. “This place sucks.” He tosses them a crooked grin. Lúcio laughed as Roadhog snorts, though he starts for the carrier. Junkrat takes in a deep breathe settling back into his earlier position, lulled by the familiar jostle of being in the taller man’s arms. 

“Alright then… Let’s go home… Together.” Lúcio replied, catching Junkrat’s attention as he reaches out his hand to Junkrat.” The blonde took it without sparing a second glance.

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm boombox trash. Sorry not sorry. 
> 
> Have more Boombox Ao3. Because I told a friend I would write Boombox, and because Ao3 doesn't have enough boombox. Shout out to NoirSongbird for helping me be just a bit more decisive on some things.
> 
> PS: Get an Ao3 so you can bookmark this shit. Loser.
> 
> willoblackthorn.tumblr.com


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